


I Want To Be Loved By You.

by whyamIalwaysLoislane (Whyamialwaysloislane)



Series: Dance With Me. [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale is a Softie, Drabbles, Fluff, Love songs, M/M, Scott Mccall is always right, Stiles really likes Pop tarts, pop tarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 16:02:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1694180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whyamialwaysloislane/pseuds/whyamIalwaysLoislane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles are kept in a confined space. Sooner or later they are going to kill each other... Or are they?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(First of my new series of Sterek Drabbles.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Want To Be Loved By You.

**Author's Note:**

> This all spirals from La Vie En Rose.

Scott woke up to the sound of voices. Angry voices. Again. Derek had been bunking with Stiles and Scott for the past few weeks. He'd been getting the Hale house renovated, to make for a larger and more homey Pack base and in doing so he'd sold his flat to Erica and Boyd. It had all been Stiles' idea, he refused to allow Derek live in the hollowed out house because it was no where near habitable, and to quote Stiles himself, 'I don't give two shits if you managed to live in a abandoned train carriage, this house is not fit for living!'. It took a lot of grumping (Derek) and a lot of huffing and puffing (Stiles), but finally, Scott and Stiles got a new roommate.

Scott could bet all his money on Stiles regretting that decision, entirely.

They were probably arguing about Pop Tarts, it was usually the Pop Tarts. 

Scott rolled his eyes and pulled himself out of his bed, trudging out of his room and into the kitchen/living room/dining room (basically everything but the bedrooms and toilets.) Stiles and Derek stood eye to eye, Stiles hands out animating his argument and Derek looked done. 

"If you'd just-" Derek began, anger huffing out through his nose.

"I'd what? Bought more of the pop tarts, that I bought originally and you keep eating!?" Stiles snapped. Scott sighed, plucking up the cereal one of them abandoned and pouring himself a bowl. Who needs Netflix, when you've got these two.

"Stiles, Good God. If you don't shut up, I'm going to-" Derek tried again, he was going a funny shade of red that Erica had taken to calling 'Stiles Scarlet'. 

"What? Rip my throat out with those bunny teeth?" Stiles quirked an eyebrow.  "Already used that one, buddy. How about you stop eating _my_ Pop Tarts or I'll rip _your_ throat out, with a blunt butter knife, Sour Wolf." Stiles growled, hands on his hips. Derek stared at him, eyes wide. 

Scott took that as his cue to leave. Jesus, he could cut the sexual tension with a knife, probably the same knife Stiles used to hack out Derek's vocal chords. He slid his bowl into the sink and headed back to his room. 

In total it took him, around ten minutes to get dressed; pull on his smock and tennis shoes, put his phone, wallet and diary in his bag. He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed back to the kitchen to grab the leftover pasta Stiles made last night.

He expected them to be mid-glare off, or Stiles to have actually murdered Derek. He did not expect them to be kissing. Full on Rom-Com-kissing-in-the-rain, eyes shut kissing. Derek's hands grabbing Stiles face, knuckles a few shades from white. Stiles hands gripping Derek's shoulders as they kissed. 

Scott managed to open the fridge, slide out the pasta, sneak it in his bag and slip out without them noticing. As soon as he was out of the vicinity, he beamed and began punching Erica's number into his phone.

"Dude, you owe me 20 bucks." Scott grinned, still smiling as he climbed the stairs of the apartment complex. Something clattered on the other end of the line.

"Shit. Seriously." She asked, voice bleeding with excitement. 

"They were arguing over pop tarts." Scott laughed, pushing the door to the lobby open and searching for his bike.

"They got together over a argument." She sighed. "Of course they did. I don't know why I doubted you Mccall." 

 


End file.
